


(i will be) by your side

by themetgayla



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movie)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Nerves, Panic Attacks, aubrey is such a bitch i’m sorry, chloe is soft, jesse barely makes an appearance i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themetgayla/pseuds/themetgayla
Summary: a timeline of the bellas performances showing the growth of beca and chloe’s friendship (and relationship) through beca’s stage fright.





	1. ICCA Regionals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shadowsinwinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsinwinter/gifts).



> new fic! it’s short, only six chapters with around 1,100 words in each one, but i wanted to post it as a separate fic. i’ve nearly finished chapter three so this won’t take long to finish! i will be uploading it to _you’re my sunshine (on a rainy day)_ once the whole thing is done!
> 
> this was actually prompted by my lovely friend shannon! check out her work; she’s the one this is gifted to! hope you all enjoy it!
> 
>  **tw:** panic attacks

Aubrey is freaking out.

The Bellas are _really_ not ready for this performance, Beca is nowhere to be seen, and she’s pretty sure she’s going to be sick. Just like last time.

Chloe’s hurriedly fixing Fat Amy’s collar, complaining softly that she really needs to start taking care of her appearance a little more. Cynthia-Rose is trying to encourage Stacie to unbutton her blouse just a little bit more, and Jessica — or Ashley, no one has a clue — is still fiddling around with her hair.

They’re supposed to be on stage in five minutes, and Beca is _still_ nowhere to be seen.

Aubrey fights back angry tears as she impulsively smoothes down her skirt. This is their first performance with her as the captain, and it’s already a complete disaster. “Chloe Beale! Why the _hell_ is Beca? We’re going on in four minutes!”

Chloe looks up, her small frown morphing into an expression of complete panic. She nods at Aubrey, knowing her frantic yell was code for “go and find her” and runs off towards their dressing room.

Her heels click loudly on the linoleum floor as she runs, arms waving out beside her so she doesn’t lose her balance. She reaches their assigned room in thirty seconds — a personal best — but she’s slightly flushed and out of breath, so she supposes it’s not really that much of a victory.

Chloe flings open the door, her cerulean eyes wide as she scans the room for Beca. She’s about to leave, the worry of letting Aubrey down already rising inside her, when she spots a small body in the corner of the room.

“Beca? Beca are you okay?” She rushes over to the brunette’s trembling frame, and falls down onto her knees. The quiet crack as she hits the floor is audible, but neither that, or the pain, are at the forefront of her mind.

Worry fills Chloe’s eyes as her brain whirs, trying to figure out what to do. Beca is shaking like a leaf, curled into a tiny ball against the wall. “Beca?”

Beca raises her head slowly, her dark eyes wide with fright. It only takes Chloe a second to realise that the brunette’s hyperventilating, her breaths panicked and sporadic. Thick tears roll down her now-flushed cheeks, carving trenches into her skin. Her mouth opens as if to speak, but no words come out.

Chloe can recognise a panic attack when she sees one, and she’s read about them, but she’s never actually dealt with one. In her slightly frenzied state, she tries to cast her mind back to one of her insomnia-induced learning sessions.

She knows the most important thing is to calm Beca’s breathing, and tell her that she’s okay. And fast. (They _really_ have to leave because they have to be on stage in three minutes.)

“Beca? Can you hear me?” After receiving a jerky nod in response, Chloe offers a warm smile. “Can you breathe with me, Beca? In for four, hold for four, out for four, okay?” Beca nods again and closes her eyes as she tries to follow Chloe’s breathing pattern.

Moments later, it doesn’t seem to be working, so Chloe figures that just talking isn’t enough. “Can I touch you?” Another nod. She reaches out and holds Beca’s wrist loosely, careful not to frighten her with the pressure. Chloe then takes the brunette’s palm and presses it against her own chest, hoping that feeling her steady heartbeat will help her match the rhythm.

“In,” Chloe encourages, breathing with Beca at the same time, “and out,” she finishes. They repeat it a few more times, and, though the younger woman still looks extremely shaken, her breathing is slow and steady.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words Beca says, guilt twisting in her stomach. She hates that Chloe had to see that, see her breakdown like that. It’s embarrassing.

Chloe’s already kind expression softens further, her eyes melting. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she soothes, rubbing small circles on the hand still pressed to her chest.

“I, um, have stage fright,” Beca confesses sheepishly, ducking her head. She gently pulls her hand from Chloe’s chest and stares down at it, the skin tingling from the contact.

“Oh Beca, why didn’t you say something?”

Beca shrugs silently. Chloe pauses, wondering if an explanation will follow, but it doesn’t. “Is it just before? Or is it on stage as well?”

“Just before. I’ll be fine.” Beca’s voice is still a little shaky, and Chloe wonders if the brunette is considering pulling out. (She doesn’t like to think like that, but according to Aubrey, it would be “a very Beca thing to do”. Aubrey doesn’t even know Beca that well, so Chloe figures her best friend is just making it up.)

“Okay, good,” Chloe says cautiously. “Um, if it’s okay, we _really_ have to go. Aubrey is going to kill us if we’re not there in,” she pauses to glance at the clock on the wall, “forty seconds.”

They both rise silently, smoothing out their tight skirts. Chloe offers a small smile at Beca, watching with sympathy as the small girl’s legs shake slightly.

“Let’s go.” Chloe ushers the brunette out of the dressing room, nerves bubbling up inside her as she breaks into a run. Beca does the same beside her, too worried about not upsetting Aubrey to remember her earlier fright.

* * *

The performance goes as well as could be expected.

As they all traipse off the stage, leaving the clapping crowd behind, the tension in the air is palpable. She turns on them as soon as they’re safely backstage, her glare verging on murderous. “I cannot _believe_ what just happened. Fat Amy, what the hell were you thinking? And Beca, deciding to show up late like you didn’t give a shit really threw us all!”

Fat Amy’s smile turns to a frown, and she has the decency to look guilty. She hastily begins to button her shirt back up, suddenly feeling exposed under Aubrey’s glare. “Sorry Aubrey,” she murmurs, earning a sharp nod of acknowledgment in return.

Then Aubrey turns to a cowering Beca, her eyes narrowed in anger. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” The words are harsh, sharp enough to slice through the growing tension.

Beca shakes her head jerkily and averts her gaze. “Sorry,” she mumbles, staring down at her feet. Chloe tenses beside her, wondering why the brunette doesn’t stick up for herself. She wants to say something to Aubrey, because it’s not right that she doesn’t know the real reason Beca was late. But she’s too scared, and she hates it.

Chloe just offers Beca an apologetic smile and tries not to be hurt when all she receives in response is a blank stare.


	2. ICCA Semi-Finals

This time, when Beca is nowhere to be seen, Chloe knows where to look.

She runs to their dressing room, Aubrey’s frenzied yells echoing after her. Seconds later, she throws open the door, her eyes gravitating immediately to the corner of the room Beca was huddled in before. But, despite scanning the room five times, she finds no trembling brunette.

 _Shit_.

Chloe spins on her heel and tears down the corridor, her mind whirring frantically. Where else could Beca be? She approaches the ladies' bathroom, desperately hoping Beca's inside. She throws open the door, concern bubbling up inside her as she listens for any sign of the tiny brunette.

The small sob she hears propels her forwards, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She has four minutes to calm Beca down and get her back to the stage, and that's without Aubrey's guaranteed lecture. She sees the brunette, hunched over the sink, her head bowed. As Chloe approaches, she sees a pair of glasses lying on the counter and a small bottle knocked over next to them.

Chloe frowns; she didn't know the brunette wore glasses. But then again, she doesn't know much about her. It's not like she volunteers information willingly. "Beca?" The younger girl's head snaps up, and Chloe can see the tear tracks, glistening in the florescent lighting of the bathroom.

"Oh god, Chloe." The redhead ignores the small spark of warmth that shoots through her at the sheer relief in Beca's expression.

"Are you okay sweetie?" Chloe rushes forwards and cups the brunette's cheeks in her palms. She brushes away the falling tears with her palms, offering a small smile as Beca blushes under the caring touch. "Stage fright again?" Chloe mentally kicks herself as soon as the words leave her mouth; she doesn't really know why she's asking, because that's obviously the reason for the brunette's tears. Beca doesn't seem annoyed by the question though, which is a small relief.

"Yeah," she whispers quietly. "I'm feeling a bit better now though." Beca pulls her head back and glances to the side, nervously avoiding Chloe's gaze. The redhead tries not to focus on the pang of hurt that spreads within her; she doesn't want Beca to be  _scared_  of her.

"Good." Chloe takes a step back, unsure of what to say. She glances at the clock and winces. Two minutes. "We should—"

"I know." Beca slips off the counter and smooths down her skirt, double checking that it's pristine. She knows Aubrey will pick up on it; that woman has eyes like a hawk. As she turns to leave, hastily rearranging her hair, Chloe stops her with a gentle hand on her forearm.

"Beca, aren't they your contact lenses?" She gestures to the small pot lying on the side, still full of contact fluid. Beca's shoulders sag slightly as she nods, an expression of slight discomfort settling on her face.

“Yeah.” The brunette doesn’t elaborate, just shrugs one shoulder and turns to leave. Chloe stops her again, a small frown forming on her face.

“Aren’t you going to put them in?”

“Nope. Not wearing them does wonders for my nerves,” Beca explains, her lips quirking upwards in a small smile. Chloe giggles, her hand still placed on the brunette’s arm. Beca blushes as her eyes flick down to their touching skin.

“Can you see okay?” Chloe asks, grinning. Beca just shrugs — she can’t see a thing — and laughs good-naturedly.

The two girls leave the bathroom, giggling as they make their way back down the corridor and towards the stage. The panic of being late is forgotten as Beca pretends to stumble, knocking Chloe into the wall.

Laughter spills from the redhead’s lips, echoing down the hall. The sound causes a faint blush to rise to Beca’s cheeks, because Chloe Beale’s laugh is simply something else.

* * *

Beca ends up adding her own touches to their set, which _really_ pisses Aubrey off. It’s to be expected, because the blonde is uptight like nothing anybody’s ever seen before, and she gets weirdly possessive over organising their songs. Beca just never realised she’d be _this angry_.

“Beca! I cannot believe you did that. How _dare_ you!” Aubrey hisses, her eyes blazing as she glares murderously at the small brunette.

Usually Beca would be cowering by now, worried about the consequences of her little stunt, but she just feels angry. Angry that all she does it try, and all she gets in return is rejection after rejection.

She’s tired of it.

“In case you didn’t notice, I made it better! People were practically falling asleep, Aubrey. I don’t know how fucking blind you are, but _no one_ likes your old set. It’s old and outdated and frankly I really helped you out.” Beca’s practically shaking by the time she finishes, her breaths coming out a little more heavily than usual.

Chloe shifts uncomfortably beside her, her gaze flitting frantically from Beca to Aubrey. The air is more than tense as The Bellas all wait for their captain’s guaranteed bad reaction.

“My god, Beca, grow up. Your attitude _stinks_. I didn’t have to let you into The Bellas, but I did because Little Miss Sunshine over here wanted me to. I can just as easily kick you out,” Aubrey snarls, stepping forward menacingly.

Beca tenses at that, because how dare Aubrey insult Chloe. The redhead visibly stiffens at her supposed best friend’s words, swallowing down the lump that’s formed in her throat. Chloe stays silent though, because Aubrey is Aubrey, and who knows what will happen if she speaks up now.

So Beca speaks up for her.

“What the fuck, Aubrey? Don’t you dare blame any of this on Chloe. She’s done nothing to you and all you do is treat her like a piece of shit. Have some fucking respect, will you?” Beca growls, stamping her foot angrily. The Bellas look nearly as surprised as Aubrey at the retaliation. They were all expecting Beca to be crying by now.

A small gasp escapes Aubrey’s lips, the quiet sound cutting through the tense atmosphere like a knife. “You don’t tell me what to do, Beca Mitchell. It’s Chloe’s fault you’re in this group!”

“Jesus Christ, if you want me out so much then I fucking quit. If this is what I get for actually trying, then I give up. Enjoy your boring set, Aubrey. I hope you throw up again.” The glare Beca fixes Aubrey with is so intense The Bellas are surprised their captain doesn’t just disappear in a cloud of smoke.

Beca turns on her heel and stalks off, trying to swallow down her overwhelming emotions. Her anger turns to pain, and hot tears spill from her eyes, rolling down her cheeks. God, what a mess.

Aubrey’s left staring after the small brunette, her mouth hanging wide open in shock. She turns to Chloe, ready to start ranting, but the hurt in the redhead’s eyes forces her mouth closed.

Chloe turns away silently, tears welling up in her eyes. The rest of the girls offer smiles of sympathy as she leaves, arms wrapped tightly around her stomach.

“Well done Aubrey,” Stacie snaps, rolling her eyes. “Thanks for that.”


	3. ICCA Finals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy jesse getting his ass kicked by beca!

Beca is, as usual, a mess before their performance. Since being invited back to The Bellas, she’s been particularly nervous. Every time she’s late to practice, every time she gets something wrong, she’s worried she’s going to get kicked.

Especially after Aubrey’s reluctance to let her back in.

Chloe reassures Beca that, despite the blonde’s hostile stares, she doesn’t really hate her. Aubrey doesn’t hate anyone, she just pretends to. Despite the Chloe’s insistence that this is true, Beca’s made peace with the fact Aubrey doesn’t like her, and probably never will.

Beca and Chloe’s friendship has grown since the brunette’s return to The Bellas, and it’s something both girls are extremely grateful for. They care about each other in a way unlike the other girls, the friendship going deeper than just late night gossip and sleepovers in each other’s rooms.

Chloe doesn’t know quite what it is, but she doesn’t want to get her hopes up because it’s not like Beca would ever return her feelings, is it?

This time, Chloe doesn’t have to find Beca. They’re together when the brunette starts gasping for air, tears rolling down her cheeks, ten minutes before they’re due in on stage.

They have plenty of time, so Chloe comforts Beca slowly, carefully. She rubs soothing circles on the brunette’s back as she shakes, gripping a cushion till her knuckles turn white.

“Shh Becs, it's okay. You’re okay,” she coos, reaching up to tuck a strand of chocolate brown hair behind Beca’s ear. The younger woman blushes under the touch, because it’s intimate and seems a little too close for a purely platonic friendship.

Because that’s what it is, right?

“What if I fuck up?” Beca cries, pressing a hand to her mouth to try and stifle the sobs wracking through her body.

Chloe’s eyes soften completely, her heart aching at the sight of Beca’s obvious pain. She knows her friend will be okay in a few minutes, but it still hurts while the panic lasts.

“You won’t fuck up, sweetie. You’re going to be amazing.” Chloe gingerly wraps one arm round Beca from the side, hoping if offers enough comfort. Beca sighs softly, her cries ceasing. She lets her head fall onto Chloe’s shoulder, her eyelids fluttering closed as she relishes in the tender moment.

“Thanks Chlo,” Beca whispers, her breath ghosting across Chloe’s skin as she raises her head. She looks into the redhead’s eyes, finding only warmth and support in the mesmerising cerulean orbs. The sight fills her heart with love; Chloe Beale is going to be the death of her.

“Anytime, Becs.” Chloe grins to try and lighten the mood, knowing that an awkward silence could cause Beca to lapse back into her earlier panic. “Are you going to wear your contact lenses this time?”

“Nope,” Beca says, without hesitation.

“You should wear them. It’s bad for your eyes if you don’t wear something, and I know you don’t want to wear your glasses on stage. Plus, going without them gives you a massive headache.” Chloe stares at Beca, hoping the almost motherly tone will persuade her to actually wear them this time.

“No. I like not being able to see the crowd,” Beca protests, folding her arms across her chest stubbornly. Chloe fights the urge to smile, because the tiny brunette is simply _adorable_.

“And you can’t see other people either! I saw you stumble into a few people last time.” Chloe doesn’t say the name of the competition, because they all know what happened after _that_ performance.

Beca doesn’t deny the claim and shrugs, picking up the small pot to look at. She turns it over in her hands and gives it a small shake before deciding that no, she really doesn’t want to see the crowd today.

“I’m good, really,” Beca insists, and so Chloe drops it. The two girls exchange soft smiles to check that everything’s okay between them.

“Then let’s go. We can’t be late!”

* * *

They win. They win and Chloe should be jumping with joy. Instead, she’s watching, her heart breaking in her chest, as Jesse pulls Beca into his arms and kisses her.

She stumbles back on impulse, unable to help the pain that shoots through her body. Her heart feels like it’s being ripped open mercilessly and squeezed till it turns to dust.

Aubrey appears next to her, scoffing as soon as she follows Chloe’s pained gaze. The blonde reaches out to squeeze her friend’s arm in gently, her heart breaking for the poor redhead. “She’s not worth it, Chloe,” she says firmly.

“But she is,” Chloe sobs, suddenly tearing her eyes away from the kissing couple. Aubrey glares at the back of Beca’s head in disgust, anger bubbling up inside her.

How dare the tiny alt girl break Chloe’s heart like this?

“I told you she was bad news.”

Chloe pulls away from Aubrey, curling in on herself. She tries to wipe away her rapidly falling tears, but gives up when her fingers merely become soaked. “I’m going for a drink.”

She leaves before Aubrey can protest.

* * *

“What the fuck, Jesse?” Beca jerks her head backwards, breaking the kiss abruptly, and yanks herself from the boy’s arms. She glares at him and folds her arms across her chest, an act of self-defence.

“I thought you liked me,” Jesse explains, hurt lacing his voice. Beca furrows her brow, regarding him with an expression akin to confusion. The boy steps forward, head tilting down as he presses himself against the brunette. He leans down, his lips inching closer and closer.

A slap echoes round the room.

Beca pulls her hand away, almost surprised, but pleasantly so. Jesse’s cheek turns a lovely shade of red and he looks utterly dumbfounded, causing the brunette to smirk triumphantly.

The room falls silent immediately — everyone stops their own chattering and turn around to stare at the tiny brunette who'd just slapped the “handsome” boy. Jesse blushes under the scrutiny, embarrassed to feel the weight of everyone's gazes upon him as he’s about to be rejected by the girl he likes.

He stares at Beca pleadingly, his eyes wide as he silently begs her not to get mad. At least not here, not now. She just grins and shakes her head subtly in reply, letting him know he’s about to get his assed kicked in public.

“Are you mad? I’m _gay_ , Jesse. I told you this when you flirted with me!” Beca growls, pushing a hand into his chest as he tries to approach her again. He loses his balance and stumbles back. Laugher erupts from around them — she's pretty here she can hear the Bellas all snickering — as Jesse trips over someone’s backpack and falls to the floor.

Beca can’t fight the self-satisfied giggle that bubbles up in her throat and spills from her lips.

Chloe grins from across the room, instinctively grabbing Aubrey’s arm. Beca definitely doesn't like Jesse, Beca is _gay_.

She can't help the glimmer of hope that flickers to life in the bottom of her heart. Beca is _gay_ , Beca likes _girls_ , and Chloe possibly has a chance.

This changes everything.


	4. Kennedy Center

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lots of angst in this one, sorry!

Beca’s expected freak out happens a lot earlier this time.

They’re all still in their dressing room, getting dressed, fixing their hair. It’s loud; Fat Amy is shouting at Lilly, trying to get her to actually speak at an audible volume. Cynthia-Rose and Stacie are quietly kissing in the corner, both only half dressed. The only ones behaving are Jessica and Ashley, who are totally ready to go on stage, and are quietly sat in the corner taking selfies.

Chloe’s yelling at them all to _calm down_ and _get ready_ , so it’s not surprising that Beca’s mind chooses now to start panicking.

It’s as she’s brushing her hair that her chest slowly tightens and her throat closes up. Knowing what’s about to follow, she drops the brush and retreats silently from the room.

The only thought running through Beca’s mind as her breathing quickens is that this _really_ needs to stop. It’s annoying for her — she doesn’t even know why she still panics — and annoying for the other Bellas, especially Chloe.

She slides down the wall, her hands trembling as she clenches her fists tightly. Her eyelids flutter shut as she focuses on her breathing, trying to guide herself through it alone.

It’s hard though, because usually Chloe is there, her soft hands rubbing soothing circles on her back.

The thought causes tears to well up in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. Chloe didn’t even notice her leaving. _That’s how little she cares, Mitchell. Did you think she actually cared about you? Stupid, stupid._

In her distress, Beca doesn’t notice the door of the dressing room open. She doesn’t notice Chloe stepping out, her expression guilty.

“Becs?”

Beca’s head snaps up at the familiar voice. She smiles weakly through her tears and raises a hand to wipe them away hastily. “Hey,” she croaks, shifting over to make room for Chloe.

“Hey. Uh, sorry I wasn’t here to calm you down. I was so focused on getting the girls ready I forgot it would probably induce panic.” Chloe blushes and ducks her head in embarrassment. Beca’s heart constricts; she doesn’t blame the redhead for anything. It’s her own fault she’s so annoying.

“It’s fine, I get it.” Beca shrugs and looks away, avoiding Chloe’s gaze when she looks back up.

“I wasn’t... I mean, it’s not—” Chloe stops, the words catching in her throat. She stares at Beca, her heart beating painfully in her chest. She takes in the tired lines etched into the brunette’s skin, the thick layer of concealer spread under her eyes, the disheartened expression on her face.

Beca swallows thickly but doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to drag her legs up to her chest and draw patterns with her fingernail on her clothed kneecap.

“Beca, are you—” Beca’s head whips round at the words, and she cuts Chloe off with a sharp glare. The redhead offers an apologetic smile, though it’s tight and a little forced.

An uncomfortable silence falls over them. It’s weird, _too_ weird. They just don’t do uncomfortable. When they’re together, Chloe’s always laughing and smiling, teasing Beca whenever she can. Beca’s grinning and whining like a child, arguing with Chloe over silly things that get resolved by tickle fights.

But now, they’re silent. And it’s unnerving.

“Are you wearing your contacts?” Chloe asks quietly, breaking the silence. Beca shakes her head without turning to look at her, instead focusing inspecting her trimmed nails. “You should put them in.”

“I don’t want to.”

“But it hurts you, Becs. I know you don’t like seeing the crowd, but the less you wear them the more it damages your eyes.” Chloe’s right, they both know that, but Beca’s too stubborn to give in. She ignores the redhead’s words and stares blankly at the wall in front of them.

Chloe sighs heavily, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She never meant for _this_ to happen. The performance is bound to go wrong now; she’s never been able to focus properly if her and Beca have argued. She can’t sleep at night, can’t concentrate, can’t do anything until it’s been resolved.

But it certainly won’t be now.

Beca watches Chloe rise from the floor and go back into the dressing room, her heart heavy. _Why do I have to be so cold? Why did I shut her down like that? I should wear my contact lenses. God, now I’ve upset her. Way to go, Mitchell._

Determined to at least try and make Chloe forgive her, she slips back into their dressing room, grabs her bag and leaves to go to the ladies’ bathroom.

Hands trembling slightly, she pushes the lenses into her eyes and blinks rapidly. God, everything really is a lot clearer. At least now her headache will dissipate.

Beca’s just leaving the bathroom, ready to go and apologise to Chloe, when the girls come streaming from their dressing room. Chloe’s behind them all, yelling that they need to get a move on. Their performance is in five minutes, apparently.

The brunette tries to catch Chloe’s eye as she walks past briskly, but she’s brushed off with a blatantly blank stare. Her stomach twists guiltily, knowing this is all her fault. Quickly dumping her things in the room, she follows her friends, trying to calm the panic rising again in her throat.

As soon as Beca catches up with them, she heads straight for Chloe. Her mind is a little foggy and her hands are still shaking, but she has to try and reconcile with Chloe before the performance.

She doesn’t perform well when she’s upset, and she knows Chloe doesn’t either. The rest of the girls will pick up on the tension onstage and then perform badly too. It’s all just a recipe for disaster.

“Chlo,” Beca says softly, approaching her best friend. Chloe doesn’t look at her, just keeps staring at the empty stage. “Chloe, please. You know we don’t perform well when we’ve argued.”

“We didn’t argue. You pushed me away.” The glare Chloe gives Beca sends chills down her spine. It’s not like the redhead to be so hostile and she _hates_ it. The usually bubbly girl looks frustrated and Beca hates that she’s the reason for it. It makes her feel sick.

“Chloe, please. I—I can’t—I’m...” Beca retreats backwards quickly, turning her back on Chloe. She stumbles behind a curtain, her breath catching in her throat. Tears prick in her eyes as she clutches at the thick material, balling it up in her fist.

Beca presses a hand to her chest as she focuses on her breathing, trying to calm the frantic thundering of her heart.

Stacie appears from round the curtain, her concern filling her eyes as she sees Beca gasping for breath. “Beca, are you okay?” She rushes forward at the jerky shake of the brunette’s head. “Shall I—Shall I get Chloe?”

Beca shakes her head again, frantically this time, her eyes widening in fear. Stacie’s eyes soften as she grabs the small woman’s hands and looks into her eyes. “Okay, okay, Beca, just... Can you breathe with me? In, out, in, out. That’s it, well done. You’re doing great, sweetie.” Stacie smiles kindly as she guides Beca through her panic attack, her words soothing.

Slowly but surely, Beca’s breathing slows. Her heart stops pounding violently in her chest, and her cheeks pale back to their original pallor. She offers Stacie a weak smile of thanks as she fiddles with the hem of her jacket.

“Thank you. I, um...” Beca trails off, not sure what to say. She can’t be honest, not really. It’s bad enough that Stacie caught her in the throes of an attack. She doesn’t want to go revealing all her insecurities.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” Stacie reaches up to squeeze Beca’s shoulder in support. She smiles, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “Come on, we have a performance to slay.”

* * *

Their performance sucks.

Amy ends up displaying her vagina to the President, which is just great. The whole set was sloppy and riddled with errors; Beca wasn’t lying when she warned Chloe their argument would affect the performance.

Chloe is an angry ball of frustration as soon as they walk off the stage, the crowd booing behind them. The redhead has tears pricking at her eyes, and her cheeks are flushed with embarrassment. Beca knows she didn’t exactly cause the events on the stage, but she definitely had a part to play.

Beca’s nervous as she approaches Chloe. It’s not often the redhead gets this angry, but when she does, it’s scary. She’s slightly calmer than before, now that the performance is out of the way.

“Chlo?”

Chloe whips round to stare at her, cerulean eyes glistening with unshod tears. Her arms are wrapped around her middle tightly, as though she’s holding herself together. She sniffs and wipes her eyes hastily as she forces her shoulders to relax. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you away before, and I know our argument caused a lot of tension. I-I feel partly to blame, and I know how much this means to you. I’m sorry, I really am.” Beca hangs her head guiltily, a light blush rising to her cheeks. “I even put in my contacts for you. I-I actually wore them,” she confesses. Beca feels a soft hand on her arm, a hand that’s undoubtedly Chloe’s — she’d know the touch of that hand anywhere — and she looks up nervously.

“You did? Beca, I’m so proud of you.” Chloe smiles widely, a soft look of admiration shining in her bright eyes. “And, it’s okay. It was my fault too. I shouldn’t have gotten so angry right before we went on. And I’m—I’m sorry I made you have another panic attack.” This time it’s Chloe that ducks her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

Beca cups Chloe’s cheeks in her hands, stroking her thumbs over her cheekbones. “It’s okay,” she assures, smiling comfortingly when Chloe looks at her doubtfully.

Chloe nods slowly, a shy smile spreading across her lips. Beca pulls the older woman into her arms and hugs her tightly. “It’s okay. We’re okay,” she repeats, her lips brushing Chloe’s ear.

She grins triumphantly when she feels the redhead shiver in her arms.


	5. Convention Performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapters are flowing more easily now thank god, this is so fun to write! final chapter will be up by the end of the week (but i’m hoping for tomorrow)

Beca likes to think she’s getting better at the whole stage fright thing, but she’s not. You’d think that after so many performances, it would be okay, but seemingly not for her.

“God, Chlo, I-I’m so t-tired of this,” Beca stammers as she gasps for breath, her hands shakin while her chest rises and falls rapidly. She tips her head back against the wall as tears stream down her cheeks, relishing in the small jolt of pain that spreads through her head.

“You’re doing great, Beca, it’s nearly over.” Chloe grips Beca’s hand tightly as she watches her struggle, wishing she could trade places with her. “I... Can I hug you?”

Chloe isn’t expecting Beca to say yes, because the brunette isn’t a really touchy person most days, let alone when she’s having a panic attack, so she’s surprised when she receives a jerky nod. Chloe wastes no time in surging forward and wrapping her arms around Beca’s middle. She brings a hand up to rub circles on the brunette’s back, her other hand cradling her head protectively.

It doesn’t take long for Beca’s sobs to die down, the cries turning to soft hiccups. She doesn’t pull away from Chloe, though. The tight embrace is warm, and she feels safe. Chloe does that to her, though. Chloe makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside. Chloe makes her heart _melt_ , and her badass facade crumble into dust.

Chloe’s spent two years taking down her walls, brick by brick, until she found the true Beca Mitchell. The scary thing is, Beca doesn’t even care. She’s not scared. She hates commitment, hates being tied down, yet here she is, at peace.

It’s a miracle, really.

Beca pulls away after a few more minutes, needing to catch her breath. Chloe’s warm and soft and cuddly and _perfect_ , but she takes Beca’s breath away.

The brunette slides down the wall and draws her legs to her chest. She wraps her arms round her calves and looks up at Chloe, patting the space next to her. Chloe smiles softly as she sits down, not even complaining getting dirt on their costumes.

“We’ve come so far,” Beca comments, picking at the shiny fabric of her sweatpants. She ignores the scratching of the waistband against the skin on her stomach and instead focuses on Chloe. Chloe’s a much better thing to focus on.

“We have.” Chloe looks almost angelic in the bright light of the corridor, her hair tightly curled and her makeup done to perfection. Their costumes are decidedly unattractive — Beca’s just thankful they’re planning to rip the god awful sweatpants off — but somehow Chloe pulls it off.

“We’ve lost our touch, Chlo. Since Aubrey left we’ve... The Bellas aren’t as good as they used to be.” It’s a confession they’ve all been thinking for a while, one no one has dared to voice until now. It seems fitting that Beca’s the one to finally say it; it’s something freshman Beca would do — be brave and bold and say what no one else would.

Chloe sighs softly, running her tongue over her bottom lip. “I know,” she says, regret and a touch of nostalgia lacing her voice. Beca stares at her intently, silently admiring the older woman’s side profile. God she’s gorgeous.

“We need to find our sound again.” Beca frowns as Chloe shrugs, a defeated look falling over her face. She reaches into the redhead’s lap and laces their fingers together gently. Chloe squeezes her hand tightly in response, her lips quirking upwards with a tiny smile.

“I know... I just—I feel like I’ve failed, y’know? Aubrey’s gone and we’ve fallen apart. Her ambition, her drive, her rules; they made us who we are. And without that... we aren’t as good. I’ve failed as a leader. I’m not—I can’t do what Aubrey did. I’m not good enough, Becs.” Chloe dissolves into sobs, her head dropping forwards as tears roll down her cheeks.

Beca watches, horrified. She never knew Chloe felt this way. It scares her that Chloe Beale, a literal ray of sunshine, feels like she’s failed. Beca’s heart aches as brings her hand up to Chloe’s chin. She tilts it upwards so she can look into the redhead’s sad, wide eyes. She offers a soft smile, her eyes filling with empathy. She of all people knows what it’s like to feel like a failure.

“Chlo, sweetheart, that’s not true. You’re—You’re amazing. You’re the kindest, most supportive, sweet, generous woman I’ve ever met. I owe everything to you. You’re anything _but_ a failure. We all love you,” Beca assures, stroking her thumb over Chloe’s skin.

Chloe is staring at her with a soft, loving expression that makes Beca’s stomach twist. It’s almost too much to bear. It’s a look of someone in love, and Beca hates it. She knows Chloe only sees her as a friend, so why is she staring at her like she’s her whole world?

She’s confused and a little hurt and she wants to scream.

“I love you,” Chloe whispers into the silence. Beca’s heart stops. The world slows down around her as her heartbeat becomes audible, thumping in her ears. Tears well up in her eyes as she blinks slowly, trying to process her best friend’s words.

And then the world speeds back up, and she’s jolted from her trance. “Love you too, dork,” she teases, jabbing Chloe in the stomach. The redhead giggles, and Beca’s heart aches. Chloe turns her head and brushes her lips against the brunette’s cheek, the touch soft and light.

Beca’s stomach flips as her chest tightens and her throat closes up. She forces a smile as she looks at Chloe, hoping the redhead won’t notice the way it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Now come on, we have a performance to get to.”

* * *

They fuck up, _again_.

Chloe’s somehow even more angry than last time, which isn’t fun for any of them. “What the hell just happened?!” She yells, anger and embarrassment filling in her eyes. She turns on Cynthia-Rose and glares accusingly.

“Don’t blame me, Flo pushed me,” Cynthia says defensively, turning to glare at Flo, who’s sat beside her with her arms folded.

“Yeah, blame the minority,” Flo snipes, letting our a forced breath. She returns the hostile glare, then deliberately turns away to look out of the window.

“I’m black _and_ gay,” Cynthia retorts, a tinge of hurt lacing her tone. It’s unlike Cynthia to get so touchy about things, but her hair was just set on fire, so Beca supposes they should cut her some slack. And she did see Flo stumble into her by accident.

“Cut it out, you two.” Chloe’s rivalling glare makes them both look down sheepishly. Beca swallows nervously, the tension in the bus starting to freak her out. She wants to calm Chloe down, or at least ask her not to get any more angry, but she doesn’t want to get yelled at herself. It’s not that Beca thinks Chloe will yell at her, but the words are stuck in her throat and she really doesn’t want to get on the redhead’s bad side. Especially not right now.

Beca moves over to Chloe silently, hoping the older woman won’t turn on her too. She didn’t do anything wrong, right? “Um, Chlo?”

Chloe spins round, still glaring, and for a split second Beca thinks the redhead is about to get angry with her too. But then Chloe’s eyes soften and her body sags, the tension falling away. “Becs,” she whispers, pulling the brunette into her arms.

Beca hugs back enthusiastically, glad she was able to calm Chloe down. She rubs soothing circles on the redhead’s back as she mumbles gentle words of sympathy. Chloe melts into the embrace, a few tears rolling down her cheek as she sighs tiredly.

“We will get there. I promise.” Beca pulls back and looks at Chloe fondly, her eyes shining with love. This time she’s the one that leans up and presses a kiss to the redhead’s cheek, relishing in the feel of the soft skin under her lips.

Chloe blushes, and Beca’s stomach flips.


	6. World Championships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here’s the last chapter! enjoy!
> 
> my friend, the person this was written for, asked me if she could write an epilogue for it which i gladly accepted because she’s an amazing writer (check her stuff out, _seriously_ ) so that’s why i’ve put this as having seven chapters!

Beca holds her breath when she panics sometimes. She hopes it’ll stop the frantic thumping of her heart in her rib cage, the shaking of her hands, the tightness in her chest. It doesn’t, and never has. She’s convinced it’ll work this time though.

Chloe’s not so sure.

“Beca, you _need_ to breathe.” Chloe’s watching, eyes wide with concern, as Beca struggles to catch her breath. The brunette nods jerkily; she knows she needs to breathe, she just _can’t_. “Sweetie, stop holding your breath, you’re going blue,” Chloe says desperately, tugging on Beca’s hands.

The panicked look reflected in Chloe’s eyes is enough to part Beca’s lips, air rushing from her mouth. She takes a deep, gasping breath as she tries to feed her body’s craving for oxygen.

“There we go, that’s better.” Chloe moves her hands up to cup Beca’s cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over her cheekbones soothingly. She smiles softly as Beca leans into the touch, her eyes closing as she tries to focus on breathing.

“I’m scared, Chlo,” Beca mumbles, her throat closing up. Her eyes fly open as she chokes, tears welling up in her dark eyes. “What if I fuck up? I can’t—I can’t do it.” The brunette takes a hasty step backwards, wringing her hands together frantically.

Chloe watches with concern as Beca’s back hits the curtain. It’s a good thing it’s so heavy, or the small woman would have gina tumbling backwards. The redhead steps forward slowly, trying to stay calm as she watches her best friend — and crush — panic. “Beca _please_ , you’re going to be okay. I don’t know how to... Just—Just try and breathe, okay? We have to go on in two minutes.”

Chloe hates that she doesn’t know what to do. She’s calmed Beca down many times before, and it’s always worked, but this time the brunette seems a little too far gone for her soft words to work.

Beca nods, because she _wants_ to calm down, she really does. It’s just hard when all she can think about is fucking up their performance. She can’t be the reason they don’t win this. They’ve worked so hard. They’ve found their sound. The Bellas deserve this win _so much_ , and Beca would hate to be the one to mess it all up.

The Kommissar’s disheartening words really got to her. DSM are _so good_ , and Beca knows deep down that they don’t really have a chance against them. That tall pretty blonde shoved that in her face, which really hasn't helped with her current panic.

“Beca, can you hear me?” Chloe’s scared question snaps Beca from her trance. The redhead steps towards the trembling girl, an idea popping into her head. It’s risky, it really is, but it’s worth a shot. It has to be.

Beca nods silently, her eyes wide as she stiffens up. Chloe smiles reassuringly as she strides forward. She pulls Beca into her, arms wrapping around her neck. And then, after sending a quick and desperate prayer up to heaven, she presses her lips to Beca’s.

Beca tenses under the sudden contact, her and her heart stops as soon as she realises what’s happening. But then she’s kissing back, the tightness in her check loosening as she melts into Chloe’s safe embrace. Her panic fades away until all she can think of are Chloe’s soft, sweet lips moving against hers.

Chloe cups the back of Beca’s neck, fingers tangling in her hair as she gently pushes her tongue between the brunette’s lips — she’s granted entrance immediately. They both smile into the kiss, glad that it’s _finally_ happening.

“Beca, Chloe, we have to—Oh!” Stacie squeals as she sees the two captains kissing, holding each other tightly. “Girls!” She yells, poking her head back round the curtain.

Beca pulls away just as the rest of the Bellas appear, all wondering what had Stacie so excited. Fat Amy immediately grins and offers Beca an air high five, which the she gladly returns. Beca turns to Chloe then, happiness shining in her eyes. The redhead is staring at her with adoration, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

“Chlo, I—”

“And give a big welcome to... The Barden Bellas!” The man says from on stage, his booming voice echoing round the stadium. The crowd cheers, a roaring, deafening noise that snaps the Bellas back to reality.

“We’ll talk later,” Chloe whispers, grabbing Beca’s hand as she practically skips onto the stage after Stacie. Beca just nods and follows obediently, desperately wishing she hadn’t worn her contact lenses. Damn Chloe for being so cute and persuasive.

Chloe lets go of Beca’s hand, and she freezes. The crowd falls silent and suddenly it’s all too much. Beca feels panic start to bubble up in her throat, so she looks desperately to Chloe for support.

As soon as the redhead sees Beca’s expression, she reaches out and tangles their fingers together. The soft touch grounds Beca, and she smiles, her worry starting to fade away.

 _Thank you_ , she mouths, just as the lights flick off.

* * *

They win. They actually _win_.

Excitement and pride soars inside Beca as soon as the announcement is made. Her face lights up in a huge grin as tears of joy well up in her eyes. She looks around for Chloe, wanting nothing more than to be in her arms right now.

Beca sees her, hugging Jessica. She pushes past Lilly and grabs Chloe’s arm, spinning her round. She wastes no time in grabbing her by the edges of her vest and smashing their lips together. Chloe slides her arms round Beca’s waist as she kisses back, falling into the passionate display of affection.

Cheers erupt from the Bellas and the audience as they stand there, kissing, enjoying the embrace. Chloe pulls away when the need for oxygen becomes too great and presses her forehead to Beca’s. Tears slide down her cheeks as she grins, her fingers tugging at Beca’s hair.

“God, I love you,” Beca whispers, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She can’t remember a time she last felt this happy. Chloe completes her, makes her feel warm and loved and _wanted_. All the struggles in her life seem completely worth it. She’d go through everything again just to have this with Chloe.

“I love you too.” Chloe presses a chaste kiss to Beca’s lips before turning back to the audience, one arm still wrapped round the tiny brunette’s waist.

Beca grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that marks the end of my bit! the epilogue should hopefully be up within a few days :)


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a fab little epilogue writen by the woman this is gifted to! i claim **no credit** for this chapter. she didn’t want her name as an author, but it’s written by her — shadowsinwinter.
> 
> enjoy! it’s brilliant :)

Beca paces nervously amongst the sound equipment littered around the backstage area, trying to block out the roar of the crowd. It’s taken her eight years (and perhaps every inch of Chloe’s patience as well), but she’s finally learnt to stop herself from spiralling into a panic attack whenever she’s waiting to go onstage. The deep breathing techniques that Chloe’s trained her in doesn’t quite quell the nerves that set in before each show though, so she’s learnt to make do – the tech crew have grown used to seeing her pace around backstage, mumbling song lyrics under her breath like her life depends on it.

“Fifteen minutes to places, Beca,” Theo grabs her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She glares at him, wrenching her arm free, and feels a twinge of gratification when he mutters a quick apology before moving on to complete his last minute checks before the show begins.

She misses Chloe terribly.

The entire past year has been a wild ride for her. She’d gone from working as a producer for a mediocre recording studio to being signed by DJ _fucking_ Khaled, of all people, all within the span of three months, it’s enough to still make her head spin when she thinks about it. Of course, being a _signed solo artist_ now does have its perks – she (or, well, Theo) had managed to arrange for Chloe to accompany her while she continued on the tour opening for Khaled.

Beca would _never_ admit it to anyone, but having Chloe there for her, backstage _with_ her did wonders for her nerves. It’s not like she still gets panic attacks whenever she has to perform, but it’s not uncommon to see the two girls huddled together before Beca has to go. Chloe would hug Beca close and let the brunette babble on nervously about anything and everything under the sun, before walking her all the way up to the stage wings and giving her a good luck kiss before waving her onstage. It’s a routine that calmed Beca and grounded her better than anything could, but also one that was cut short when real life got in the way and Chloe had to fly back to the States after two weeks on tour together to get ready for vet school.

“Ten minutes, Beca,” one of the sound guys – either Jacob or Jackson, she can’t really remember his name – calls out, and she nods nervously, checking her phone for the fourth time, hoping to see a Facetime request for Chloe.

 _0 new notifications_ , the phone tells her, and she swears softly, slipping it back into her pocket with hands that are starting to shake.

Pre-show Facetimes had been a ritual that Chloe came up with, to make up for her not being physically there for Beca before each show – and despite the distance (and sometimes time difference) between them, Chloe’s _never_ missed one before. Beca’s come to rely on Chloe’s calming (digital) presence, so this uncharacteristic radio silence just as she’s about to play at Madison Square Garden, the largest venue she’s ever performed in, is starting to freak her out, big time.

 _Deep breaths_ , she can almost hear Chloe’s voice in her mind. _In… Hold, then out. Good, now try that once more._

“Five minutes!”

Beca checks her phone again, her desperation rapidly mounting.

_0 new notifications._

She lets out a quiet whimper that goes unnoticed by everyone except Theo, who’s staring at her oddly.

“Mitchell, are you _scared_?”

“No Chloe today,” Beca blinks back the tears that have started to her eyes angrily, hating the fact that _Theo_ , out of all people, is there to watch her cry. She knows she’s being ridiculous – Chloe is in vet school, for heaven’s sake, and Beca is an _adult_ who should know how to deal with her own insecurities. But then Chloe’s been there for her every single step of the way, helping to soothe her anxieties ever since their first Bellas performance together, and somehow, Beca’s grown dependent on the redhead to just be _there_ for her when she needs someone to lean on.

“Places, everybody!” The shout jolts Beca out of her misery, and she shoves her phone at Theo – Khaled’s _very_ particular about the “no phones onstage” rule – plasters a huge, fake smile on her face, and marches grimly onto the stage, fighting back a cringe when the crowd’s roar of approval slams into her like a brick wall.

“Hello, Madison Square Garden!” She musters up all the cheer she can manage. “Are you ready for a good show?”

The crowd screams in assent, and she launches into her set without further ado, her eyes flicking over the arena, taking in the crowd size.

And then she’s never been more glad that she’s finally learnt to pay attention to Chloe’s nagging and put in her contacts before the show, because _there_  —

In the first row.

She catches a glimpse of fiery red hair and startling blue eyes gazing warmly up at her, and nearly stumbles over the next lyrics, but catches herself and carries on.

Against all odds, Chloe Beale is _there_ , in the first row of Madison Square to watch her perform. She’s flown all the way from California to New York _just to see her._

The thought buoys her, makes her feel as though she’s walking on air, and once she’s finished, she rushes offstage, shoving and elbowing her way past the tech guys preparing for the main show. It takes a few minutes, and then she’s launching herself down the corridor that leads to the audience seats, ignoring the startled glances that the stagehands and security shoot her when she blows past them, because Chloe’s there, walking, then running towards her with arms open, and the next thing Beca knows, she’s swallowed up in a tight embrace she’s missed for far too long.

“Becs,” Chloe sighs happily, and Beca stretches up on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to her girlfriend’s lips.

“Chlo,” she laughs, somewhat incredulously. “You’re… you’re really here. I thought I was seeing things for a second, up there.”

“Surprise?” The redhead smiles down at her, but then sobers quickly, becoming contrite. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t Facetime today. I was going to call you just before you went on, but my phone died on the flight over, and then I—”

Beca shuts her up with another kiss, unhurried and sweet. “You talk too much, Beale,” she murmurs, reaching out for Chloe’s hands and lacing their fingers together. “You’re _here_ , and that’s all that really matters.”

She leans her forehead against Chloe’s, and closes her eyes, simply basking in warmth of her presence.

And really, it’s all that Beca needs.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed the first chapter! let me know what you thought!


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